You're an Idiot, Ch. 17The doors opened, and the doctor from before bustled, with another trailing behind at her heels. They both looked completely focused and professional, their expression one that John himself had worn many times before when dealing with patients. For a moment, he understood how people could hate doctors for being so cold and impersonal.
"How long has he been awake?" she demanded of John, not looking at him but checking the machines and the chart at the end of Sherlock's bed.
"Not long. About five minutes? Seven?" hazarded John, wishing he'd paid more attention. He was a doctor, after all.
"Good. Can you remember your name?" She addressed Sherlock, allowing her face to soften slightly.
"Yes." Sherlock sounded sulky, and coughed again, briefly.
The doctors waited. No response was forthcoming.
The second doctor, the new one, a tall man with brownish hair and grey eyes, was the first to catch on. "What is your name?" he asked, smiling slightly.
Sherlock looked at him appraising